Roxanne Weasley and The Darkness Rising
by partialtopotter
Summary: When a new big bad is out to haunt Hogwarts, Roxanne Weasley gives a first person account of how her friends and loving family attempt to defeat it. What happens when she falls for Finnian Parkinson? An older boy whose mother, Pansy, and stepfather, Blaise Zabini, are the leaders of the new dark side. Fic follows Roxanne ages 11 through 20(something).
1. My Turn

Author's Note: Hey guys, this story will chart young Roxanne's life and there will be a couple chapters (but not a set number) for each year of it. This being said I will head each chapter with some sort of time/age stamp. I do not own any of Jo's characters, I just love writing my personal realties for them! Don't forget to read and **REVIEW**, I love all feedback!

_First year: Roxanne is eleven years old_

Sound travels in my house; any word said or secret divulged above a whisper is fair game for any lucky snoop who happens to be in the vicinity. My brother Fred and I swear our Dad (better known to the world as George Weasley) put a spell on the house to make it that way, an addition he made due to his bitter resentment of having to use his extendable ears so frequently in his own childhood home. So when Fred was being scolded by my mother on the day I headed off to Hogwarts, let's just say – it felt like my own personal radio broadcast.

"FRED WEASLEY THE 2ND – I'VE CAUGHT YOU! CAN'T PULL THE WOOL OVER MY EYES – NO SIR! George that's a point for me," my mother's voices echoed through the house. I ran downstairs to see the show live, plus if we didn't leave soon it was likely we were going to miss the Hogwarts express.

When I got downstairs, Fred was sitting in a chair in the middle of the living room, clutching a sad black puppy and grumbling to himself. He was no doubt not very pleased that he'd been found out. See, Hogwarts doesn't allow dogs but last Christmas my brother and I both got to pick out pets and he chose a puppy while chose a cat. I, of course, would be taking mine to school with me and he was supposed to sneak his in past mum under an invisibility cloak our cousin James Potter let us borrow. Obviously, I knew the whole plan; I may be two years younger than Fred but we are very close. I had never once snitched on him and I certainly wasn't going to start over a little matter like transporting illegal contraband my first day at a new school.

"Ahh Roxanne, honey, you aren't by any chance getting into any mischief this morning that I can bust you on. Your mother seems to be ahead in this month's tally," My dad said to me as I entered the room. Let me explain, my brother Fred and I got in trouble a lot growing up, we had this family rule though: If you're not caught, you can't be punished. There was even a two week crime expiration date. Anyway, my parents turned it into a competition to see who at the end of each month could catch more of our dirty deeds.

"Nope dad, I'm clean."

"Ugh, since when? Come on, no spider eggs in your brother's bag like last year?"

"No dad, I'm good… You know most parents would be pleased at this sort of thing."

"We are dear," my mum (former quidditch pro, Angelina Johnson) said in a mildly sarcastic tone, sticking her tongue out at her husband. So, my family wasn't exactly normal but hey, we're Weasley's and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

When we'd finally got ourselves organized enough to get to the station, we were pretty much the last of the Weasley clan to arrive, all my cousins who were making the trip had already boarded the train. But, even so, you couldn't miss the road block of adults, a huge clump of ginger with some blonde and black spots every few heads.

"Roxy, my sweet, I'm so proud of you – going off to school," Gran Weasley had tears welling in her eyes. She pulled me into a tight plump hug, sneaking a sack of treats in my bag for later.

"Thanks Gran," I smiled at her.

"Hey Weasley, you better get on the train before it leaves you behind" a tan boy, with a curly black affro said from the train window. That was my best friend Ivar Jordan, he's the son of my mum and dad's best mates Katie Bell and Lee Jordan.

Mum and dad gave me and Fred one final hug and put us on the train. My heart was beating with every step. This was it – it was finally my turn to go to Hogwarts!

"BY KIDS! MAKE GOOD CHOICES."

"BUT DON'T LET THE MAN KEEP YOU DOWN"

"MUMMY LOVES YOU"

"BUT NOT MORE THAN GOOD OLD DAD!"

That would be my parents trying scream over the sound of the train leaving the station. Curious how they didn't stop yelling even after the train's whistle subsided. That was my parents for you, always making a scene – well at least they were happy and in love!

The train was just as magical as I'd always pictured, there were older wizards casting spells and playing games of exploding snaps and wizard's chess. My uncle Ron taught me to play that once. Back when he was in school he helped stop Voldemort by playing the game – the way he tells it, he could have died it was so dangerous.

"So, where are we sitting?" Ivar Jordan asked his sister Jessa, Fred, my cousin James. Jessa was Fred's age and Ivar and I secretly thought that they had a crush on each other.

"Not with us, sorry. The train's official Wheezes business for the three of us. Dad asked us to sell merchandise on the train while kid's pockets are still fresh with money from emotional parents." I crossed my arms, disappointed. "

"Dad never asked me."

"Cheer up little sis, mum probably told him to let you enjoy your first ride or something maternal like that – you know sentimental and stuff. Go sit with the rest of the family, I think I saw Victorie, Domonique and Molly go over there somewhere."

"Not a chance, we'll find our own compartment," I responded, motioning Ivar to come along. It's not that I didn't love my cousin's Victiorie and Domonique, on the contrary, they were really cool and super pretty – Veela blood as it were. But it was Molly's first year at Hogwarts too and she had to be the most annoying Weasley in the bunch, dad swears her father, Uncle Percy, was worse but I beg to differ. Molly was known for doing what was practically outlawed in my household; she was a grade A tattler and I had no tolerance for it.

"Let's sit in here," Ivar suggested. The compartment was practically empty, excluding this first year blonde witch with bone straight, yellow blond hair. She was wearing a pink mini skirt, a light blue tank top and baby blue platform shoes, a rather elaborate outfit for an eleven year old. She was tapping on a weird flashing rectangle that Ivar and I stared at with the upmost of confusion.

"arrrg!" She grumbled, blank and I sat up, thinking she must be referring to our recent entrance. "This dumb thing is going haywire! I'll have daddy's assistant sort it all out. I'm Christie, by the way, Christie Simmers!" She moved her head side to side as if we were supposed to say something. "It's ok, I'm not shy. I am the Simmers from Simmers incorporated – Daddy started the company by himself didn't you know. Grrrr are your cell phones doing this too?"

Ivar and I just stared at her, dumb founded. We had no Idea who her father was and we definitely didn't own that cell phone thing she was talking about.

"A what?" I asked sheepishly. The rectangle she held up was all pixelated and flashing. I knew absolutely nothing about it, but it didn't seem to be working right.

"A cell phone." She paused. "Oh my God you guys don't know what that is, do you?" She pulled a large, leather bound book out of her sparkling blue handbag. It said 'what you need to know about Wizards' on the front.

"oooooooooooooh" Ivar and I said together, nodding.

"Duh, you must be a muggle born." I hit myself on the head with the heel of my palm. "I'm Roxanne, this is my friend Ivar."

"Is it that obvious I'm muddle born?" She asked looking worried. I giggled.

"M_uggle_ born. And yeah, it's pretty obvious to any other witch, but Hogwarts will change that sure enough. So is your dad like a big deal in the muggle world or something?"

"Huge! He owns a cellphone company. But it seems his merchandise is faulty," she said hitting the flashing rectangle rather hard.

"Is it electronic by any chance?" she looked at me like it was obvious. "Yeah, nothing electronic works in the wizarding world, the magic interferes with its signals or whatever. My granddad is real obsessed with muggle stuff so I know. Sometimes he takes us to muggle neighborhoods to see this thing called the cinema."

"No electronics?! For a whole school year? You're kidding me right? How do you talk to your friends or ask your parents for stuff?"

"You send an owl."

"I'm sorry what? I thought that whole owl thing was a joke."

"Man they don't tell you guys nothin do they?" Ivar said looking sideways.

"They gave me this book, but I thought it was just like suggested reading." She held up the leather bound book from earlier. Ivar snickered, I jabbed him in the side.

"Owe!"

"So…were your parents excited when you got your letter, my mum cried when my brother, Fred got his and she knew it was coming."

"Oh yeah, they were over the moon. Of course, we knew I was gifted – I was just like too good at guessing games, you know. Like someone says 'what do you think the weather will be like today' and I'd be like "hot, the neighbor's farm is going to catch on fire blah blah blah!"

"Wait, you're a seer?" Ivar asked in disbelief.

"Sure am! McGonagall, the Witch who told my parents about this stuff so they knew it wasn't some weird scam, told me I had the inner eye! Whatever that means."

"That's sooo cool!" I said, because it absolutely was. First of all, I had never met a real seer before in my life. They're a real big deal in the Wizarding World. I guess that's why McGonagall went to talk to her herself, that job was usually for someone a little less high up than the head mistress of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"If you're so good," Ivar said irritably "what house are we all going to be sorted into?"

"Oh please, that's easy! The one about the doors and thank god, am I right, I mean green and yellow are not my colors. I was kind of hoping for the blue but crimson's classic, you know, it's a total consolation. I'm deff not disappointed." Ivar and I stared at her, jaws dropped. Were we really just sorted by a little blonde muggle born that didn't know what Gryffindor was? Ivar and I were so excited, though, we went off to tell our siblings. They were skeptical, of course, but it didn't matter because I, Roxanne Weasley, would be continuing the esteemed family tradition of being sorted into Gryffindor house!

And sure enough, at the start of year feast, Christie, Ivar and I found ourselves sitting underneath Gryffindor's classic crimson banners eating and smiling with rest of the Weasley/Jordan/potter clan. That is, excluding Molly, who I'm happy to report was sorted into Ravenclaw. This might be a bit a harsh but I had considered requesting the hat sort me into another house just because the idea of rooming with her for seven years aroused the same feeling as rooming with one of my gran's lawn gnomes and they bite.

"So do you guys, like, not know how to write and add and stuff?" Christie asked Ivar and I in the middle of our dessert.

"What?" I asked, mouth half full of custard.

"No, Christie we're homeschooled – you ninny. What did you think, we were a bunch of illiterate eleven year olds?" Ivar said back angrily. They weren't getting off to a great start on the whole friendship front. Especially after Christie commented that she thought that his name sounded silly. Ivar were named after the first ever female quidditch player – Jessa Ivar. But, yeah I guess it would be a bit weird for a muggle born.  
>"Well I wouldn't know," she said defensively.<p>

"You would if you read the book you were given on Wizards! I mean were you planning to just wing it?"

The sound of a woman clearing her throat was heard behind us, we all turned around – it was Professor McGonagall staring down at us with her cat eyes. She had a wrinkled face that was a mark that she'd gotten on in years but her presence was still very much agile and intimidating. I gulped audibly.

"Hello Professor," the three of us said together.

"Hello Miss Weasley, Mr. Jordan it is lovely to finally meet you. I hope to get to know the two of you quite well over the next seven years, though I hope not for the same reasons I know your brother, Roxanne." She turned her head towards Fred across the table. "Yes, it seems he certainly does live up to his name!"

"How are you Professor? Good holiday?" Fred said smugly with a charming smile. Ugh, my big brother was so cool.

"It was lovely Mr. Weasley, thank you for asking. I spent a great deal of time visiting some friends of mine in America, such interesting Witches and Wizards they have there." She wrinkled her nose disapprovingly then shook it off. "But enough of me, Miss Simmers, if you're done eating, I actually was wondering if you wouldn't mind taking a walk with me to the edge of the forest to talk to Professor Freinz. I think he will be able to give you a lot of insight into your divination capabilities."

"Sure thing Professor, just let me finish this cake. You sure do have some great food at this school!" Christie said as if she were talking to a peer. James and Fred looked at her impressed.

Suddenly, there was a loud commotion at the entrance to the great hall. A balding, greasy man with shabby looking clothes came hobbling down the hall, clutching a disheveled boy wearing slytherin colors.

"Headmistress, headmistress!" The man said, heading in our direction.

"Excuse me," Professor McGonagall said before she went to meet the man half way.

"Who's that?" I whispered to my brother.

"That's Filch, the squib dad's always telling us about."

"And that guy," my cousin James continued, "is Finnian Parkinson. He's a slytherin in my year." That must mean he was a grade above me. James was a year younger than Fred, but they were best friends all the same. "He's always getting into trouble. I mean, even more than the average slytherin."

"I saw this one drinking from a flask in a back corridor. I smelled it myself – waddn't butter beer cup." flitch said to Professor McGonagall.

"With detective work like that it's no wonder you keep him around," Finnian said to McGonagall rolling his eyes. He was a handsome boy; he had dark hair that spiked up in all different directions, a set jaw and small hazel eyes. He wore his white bottom down with the top buttons undone, only to reveal is small, slender frame.

"I see we are starting out the year on a positive note Finnian. Thank you Filtch, you can release him. Follow me Mr. Parkinson." McGonagall said sternly. The whole great hall seemed to have gone silent in rapt attention. All but Christie who seemed to be staring off into a very precise part of space. I wondered for a second if she was having a vision of some sort. She turned to look at me worried.

"Hey Roxanne, you should – " but before she could finish McGonagall and now Finnian showed up, signaling it was time for her to go "See you guys later." Then the three of them were off and I was left at the table to ponder what Christie was about to say.

"That Christie girl's weird," Ivar said once they were officially gone. It was the first time we'd been without her since the train. I laughed at him.

"I like her!" I stated proudly, much to Ivar's dismay.

Later that evening when I should have been sound asleep in my Hogwarts four poster, resting up for a full day of classes, I instead was wondering about the castle, too intrigued by all it's many mysteries. My uncles Harry and Ron, my Aunt Hermione and even my mum and dad all had adventures in this place and it was finally my turn. My whole childhood, I'd heard the magical and thrilling stories of life at Hogwarts and it was time for me to start my own.

It's true what they say, be careful what you wish for. When I had reached an abandoned hall near the dungeons, the floor began to cave in, sucking me down with it. I let out a scream that sounded more like a child's shriek. So much for being in Gryffindor, I thought to myself. I wiggled and squirmed as I continued to be absorbed by the floor. The surrounding concrete did not seem to be melting so I attempted to push myself up but I wasn't strong enough.

"Oh jeez!" I said. Then I swore I heard a maniacal laugh right by my left ear. A shiver and a chill ran down my spine. Another loud screech escaped me, echoing through the halls. I heard footsteps coming from around the corner.

"Blimey Kid, you wanna keep it down. What're trying to do, get every prefect in the school to bust us out of bed after hours?" It was the Parkinson Kid from earlier, he had a half smoked cigarette in his mouth.

"My hero, ladies and gentlemen," I said irritably because he'd yet to try to get me out the hole I was waist deep in.

"You want my help or not?" He said, coming closer. I gave him my hands. It took four hard yanks and a partially dislocated shoulder to get me out of that jam.

"Thank you," I said getting to my feet.

"Yeah well, I just wanted to finish my cigarette in piece," He responded, He took another drag and blew out a big puff of smoke. He threw the bud into hole just as it closed. I coughed from the smoke. He chuckled. "What're you doing wondering around the Castle at night by yourself? Haven't you heard this place's haunted?" He said that last part darkly. Even though he was only a year older than me, he talked like he was a bloody fifth year or something. I wasn't sure if I liked it, it gave the impression that there was a hint of condescension in everything he said.

"That's why I'm out," I said haughtily. "I'm cursed with overactive curiosity. Wanted to know what all the stories were about. "

"And how'd that work out for you?" He smiled, a crooked smile that favored his right side. "I swear you Gryffindor's are always out to prove something."

"Why am I not surprised, Finnian Parkinson and… Roxanne, is that you?" It was my cousin Victorie on prefect duty. I waved wirily at her. "Roxanne it's your first night in the Castle and already your following in your brother footsteps?" She looked at me, disappointed.

"No," I said defiantly. "I'm making my own footsteps." Finnian snickered next to me.

"Nice," he whispered in my ear. I gave him a dirty look.

"What are you doing out of bed Roxanne?" Victorie said, ignoring Finnian.

"I was just exploring the castle a little, honest." I said, hoping not to get written up due to the family clause of 'that would be a really Molly like thing to do.'

"Try to do that during the day, OK? And what's your excuse Parkinson? Haven't you already been to the head mistresses office once today? You have a thing for her or something, trying to see her in her night gown?" I let out a giggle that was too loud because I don't think Finnian took kindly to being made fun of. Finally, I thought, he looked his age – a twelve year old embarrassed little boy. I may have gotten a bit too much enjoyment out of the sight, he did save my life after all.

"That's my fault too Victorie," I said, "something uhh – frightened me – you heard the screams. Well, Finnian was in his common room, minding his own business, when he heard me and came out to see what was wrong."

"How valiant of him," she looked at him suspiciously, he just smiled back at her.

"Fine. Get to bed, both of you…Oh and since you're such a hero tonight Finnian, you won't mind walking a lost first year back to Gryffindor tower, will you?" He nodded his head with his left-tilted smile. Victorie left, heading around the corner to finish her rounds.

"It was pretty cool of you to cover for me back there." He said as we were on our way to Gryffindor tower.

"It was no big deal, I'm used to it. I do it for my brother all the time."

"How'd you know hottie miss snooty pants anyway?"

"Uhm Victorie? She's my cousin." He stopped walking, gawking at me.

"Wait, you're telling me you're a Weasley?" He said in a tone I didn't much like.

"Yeah I know, I'm not blessed with dead giveaway hair color. I have the freckles though." I pointed to the row dots that speckled my nose and a small portion of my cheeks. My hair was not the typical Weasley red like my brother's, nope my long wavy locks were average old brown.

"Ugh, I didn't peg you for a _Weasley_," he said, saying my last name in a rude way again.

"What're you trying to say Parkinson?"

"Nothing, it's just the Weasley/Potter fandom around here, I'm over it. Like they saved the Wizarding World, big deal, so did half the other kid's families in this place. You're families just so… loud and entitled." My cheeks went warm with annoyance, I'd also inherited the Weasley temper. Nobody talked about my family, I thought. I pinched him hard on the arm. It was the only thing I could think to do on short notice.

"Owe," he said laughing. "Did you really just pinch me?" I was fuming.

"You know, I think I can make it back to Gryffindor tower by myself," I said marching away. "It's been nice getting to know you – NOT." Ok, so not my best line but I was eleven and in a rushed situation.

"Good, wouldn't want to be seen with a Weasley anyway," he said smiling, as if nothing I'd said affected him.

"ARRRG" I grumbled all the way back to my four poster, so angry that I completely forget the floor tried to swallow me whole.


	2. flying Faux pas and Potions Partners

The Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch was lined with eager first years awaiting they're first flying lesson. Though, strictly speaking, it was not the first for me and Ivar Jordan. In fact, we'd been flying practically our whole lives, our mother's being professional quidditch players and all; they even used to play on the same team. My mum had bought me a new broom for the start of year, it was a real beauty too – a God's Speed! My brother has one just like it that he got for Christmas last year. It's pretty much the fasted broom in the world and certainly looked better than the practice brooms the other first years had in front of them. They were worn and shabby, they're bristles sticking out in every direction.

"I'm so jealous!" Ivar grumbled, practically drooling over my broom.

"I told you I would let you fly it after I'd been once." That seemed to cheer him up.

"SHHHHHH," Molly said with an indignant expression on her face. "Some of us are trying to learn."

"I'm surprised you need to, seeing as you how you seem to know EVERYTHING!" I said to her, sticking out my tongue.

"HMPH" Molly turned away from me, her hand shot up in the air. Oh no, that little tattle better not –

"Pardon me Madam Hooch, I was only wondering if you could repeat what you just said. I couldn't hear over their talking." She looked back at me haughtily. My mouth fell open – this was low, even for her.

"Since you seem to be an expert, why don't you mount your broom and give us a demonstration Ms. Weasley." Mrs. Hooch said in front of me. The rest of the first years snickered, excluding Ivar and Christie, of course. Christie, who practically had to pick up her broom because it refused to come when she said "up", looked terrified for me. I was not one to be laughed at. If she was going to challenge me, so be it. I guess I was lucky it was quidditch not history of magic, this morning I couldn't tell the difference between the Goblin's independence and the Elf rebellion.

"If you're sure Miss." Madame Hooch puffed up, smiling.

"A clean line down the center of your class mates should do the trick," she said in a voice that sounded like she didn't think I could do it.

"I'll do you one better!" As soon as the words left my lips I zoomed up into the air, knocking Molly over with the impact of my waking wind. I grinned then steadied myself. This broom certainly was fast and harder to control than Fred's hand me down Nimbus 3000 that I'd practiced with at home. Once I was sure I had my balance in the air, I pressed the broom forward, circling the entire pitch. There were cheers and clapping coming from the watching first years. If it's a show they want, it's a show they'll get; I decided to weave in and out of the three quidditch hoops then touch down on the ground.

My return was greeted with cheers and pats on the back, even from Madam Hooch, who was clapping primly at the end of the line.

"Well done, very well done! Perhaps someone else wants to give it a go?" She looked around, Ivar's hand shot right up. "Perhaps someone who doesn't have a professional quidditch player as a parent. Ah… Christie Simmers, how about you?" Her eyes went wide.

"I would really rather not Madam. Please!"

"Oh it's simple dear, just mount your broom and give it a slight kick off the ground." Christie's porcelain face went deep red within seconds. She couldn't even mount her broom, she went to sit on it but it shot forward as she tried, sending her to the ground. Everyone laughed. Tears started to well in her eyes, she looked at me for help.

"Madam Hooch, may I please take Christie to the bathroom?" I said in a hurry.

"Oh yes, yes right thinking Weasley! Be on your way."

It must have been my lucky day or something because after my first potion class with professor slughorn I was escorted to Professor McGonagall's office to discuss my being moved up to level two. McGonagall told me that they almost never moved students up in classes due to the intercut lockstep of each year. But, thankfully, first years had a study hall during the second year potions slot and I was able to switch into their class. I think the best part about this recent development in my Hogwarts career was the look on my cousin Molly's face when she found out – not the most studiest witch in the family now was she? Ok, so maybe she was but that didn't change the fact that I was moved up and not her. My mum was over the moon excited when I owled her, potions was her thing you see, and she had taught me absolutely everything I knew.

"How's are little no it all doing today?" My big brother, Fred said as he sat next to me in the dining hall the next day at lunch.

"Yeah, Rox" James continued on the other side. "Word around the street is there's a new** Molly** in the family." I recoiled with a horrified expression on my face.

"Bite your tongue, James Potter." I said, put out. Christie and Ivar giggled across from me at the table – some friends they were.

"ooh touchy," Fred said to James. "Dad owled me and told me to remind you that as his children we have a legacy of cool we have to maintain and potions nerd doesn't fit the esthetic." Christie gasped.

"Did your dad really say that?" She obviously wasn't akin to George Weasley humor.

"Probably." I grumbled to her, crossing my arms in a pout. Ivar patted me on the shoulder.

"Hey, cheer up. You can't be too big of nerd if your rubbish at transfiguration."

"Thanks," I sarcastically spat, giving him a dirty look.

"What happened in transfiguration?" James and Fred said in unison, their eyes alight with curiosity.

"none of your – "

"Your sister here, decided it wasn't necessary to do the assigned reading before the first day of class and things didn't turn out to well." Christie answered Fred and James. "The pencil she was working with ended up flying across the room, almost hitting the professor in the eye." James and Fred erupted with laughter.

"Oi Christie, whose side are you on?"

"Hey," Christie continued, looking at me sympathetically. "Honestly, I was just happy to find that you weren't good at everything." This made Fred laugh even louder.

"Trust me, she's not." I stuck my tongue out at my brother. "I'm sorry, we haven't met, I'm Fred – this is my cousin, James." James smiled in Ivar and Christie's direction. Her porcelain cheeks went bright red.

"I'm, uhh" She stammered, Ivar had to hit her in the ribs with his elbow. "Owe. Oh, I'm Christie Simmers," she extended her hand.

"Nice to meet you Christie, I'm sure we'll see you around." James said then turned to me. "Hey, you ready? We should probably start heading to potions soon."

"Yeah." I said standing from the table, a little nervous flutter in my stomach. Fred's face contorted in a frown as he pinched my cheeks.

"They grow up so fast, don't they James?" He sang mock melancholy.

"One day she's in potions one, the next she's in potions two with me!" James continued. He put his arms around my shoulders.

"One day she's my cool little sister, the next day… she's just my little sister!" I slapped Fred's hand off my cheek and marched away from them.

"Oh, come on Rox we were just kidding. It's gonna be great having you in my class!" James shouted. I turned around and sneered at him when I ran smack into someone, almost falling down.

"Watch it Weasley, other people walk here you know." It was Finnian, the Slytherin from my first night here.

"Watch yourself, Parkinson" I spat back. Continuing in my pursuit out the great hall.

By the time I reached the dungeons for potions, James had apologized and was far too invested in my little squabble with Finnian Parkinson.

"Do Fred and I need to take care of him for you?" He asked taking out his wand in mock chivalry.

"No, I do not need you to take care of anyone for me. I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." James responded, leading me into the classroom. "But what did he do? I mean, you've been in school less than three days and you already have a feud."

"He was talking bad about our family," I said defensively. "He said he doesn't like all the attention we get because our parents saved the wizarding world or whatever. "

"Doesn't surprise me." James whispered in my ear when we sat down. "My Dad told me that his mum, Patsy… no Pansy, was in his year and she was foul. Said she was rooting for the other side during the war. I would be pretty bitter too if that was my legacy."

"You have something you want to say to my face, Potter?" Finnian said from behind us. When did he show up? He looked livid. James, however, looked a little embarrassed – not that he would ever admit that to Finnian.

"Only I heard you were talking bad about my family, Parkinson. Like mother like son –" But before James could finish, Finnian had his wand up against his throat.

"DON'T SAY A WORD ABOUT MY MOTHER!"

"Wand down Parkinson! This is my fault, not his." I said, feebly pointing my wand at him, even though I didn't know any spells yet.

"And what are you going to do with that Weasley, poke me to death," Finnian said, still in his rage. "Wait, what are you even doing here?" I flushed – full on Gryffindor crimson cheeks.

"They – uhh – moved me up a level in potions." I said. He scoffed.

"Figures, you Weasleys and Potters always getting special treatment." He practically spat in my face. I went even redder as I noticed that the whole class had crowded around to watch. James took out his wand while Finnian was distracted, countering the threat.

"Lay off her, Parkinson!"

"Alright, alright, I've seen enough!" Slughourn said in a deep, terrifying tone. "Wands down! Neither of you were even thoughts in your parent's heads during the war so I don't see any reason for you to be bringing it up in my classroom. Now everyone take their seats." No one dared argue. The whole class scrambled to find their place. The room was completely divided, all the slytherin second years on one side while Gryffindor second years (plus me, of course) sat on the side nearest me and James. Slughorn looked at us all disapprovingly.

"Nope, nope, nope, we aren't doing this this year," he said. The classroom looked around confused. "None of this separate sides, rivalry rubbish. Everyone take a slip of paper and write your name on it, then put it in this cauldron." We all begrudgingly did as we were told.

"Now, whoever's name I pull out of this cauldron alongside yours is your partner for the remainder of the year and who you will sitting next to during class." There were an array of whispers of outrage from both the slytherin and Gryffindor sides. "No complaining, am I understood? Maybe you'll get to know each other and stop this ridiculous war between houses.

"Bret Rivers and Elsinore Creevey," Slughorn announced.

"Lucky gits, they're both in Gryffindor." James said in my ear irritably next to his Slytherin partner, Mathilda Goyle.

"Finnian Parkinson, your partner is – " Slughorn reached in for another name, he smiled darkly before reading it aloud. "Roxanne Weasley!"

"Perfect," I muttered under my breath, as I went to take my seat next to Finnian. He didn't say a word to me when I sat down, just huffed and moved his books over a smidge. This was going to be a long year, I thought to myself.

"Now that that's sorted," Slughorn said, rather pleased with himself. "Let's talk about your lesson for today." I took out my notebook and quill, ready to take notes.

"Nerd," Finnian said beside me. I took the highroad and ignored him. Also, I didn't have a comeback.

"Your first assignment is to work with your partner to create a sleeping drought according to your instructions in your potions level two books. I will be checking them at the end of class. Good luck!"

I went to grab my book, but I remembered that I only had level one and my mum was owling me the second later. I raised my hand.

"Ahh, what can the talented Roxanne have to ask?" Slughorn said, making me blush. I heard Finnian snicker beside me.

"Professor, I haven't gotten my book yet."

"I'm sure your partner wouldn't mind sharing, given that he's already 30 of our house points." Slughorn said, giving Finnian a menacing stare, he was the slytherin Professor after all. Finnian gave a grumble in reply.

"Look," I said, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry about the stuff James and I were talking about." He made no moves to look at or acknowledge me. "I'm not saying we have to be friends or anything, but we do have to work with each other and I really like potions and I don't want to spend the whole year fighting and – "

"Merlin Weasley, do you ever shut up?" He was speaking to me – that was an improvement. I just smiled apologetically in response. He took out the potions book and set it in between us. I opened it to the right page and began gathering the ingredients in silence. Finnian wasn't helping but he wasn't inhibiting me either so I decided not to say anything about it.

The potion wasn't too difficult but it was certainly harder than the first year stuff I was doing yesterday.

"I didn't take you for the kind of girl that would tattle to her older cousins so they could solve problems for her." Finnian finally said while I tried, unsuccessfully, to remove the wings from a live beetle.

"I didn't tattle. He asked because of the way _you_ snapped at me when I ran into you earlier."

"Likely story," he said lounging back in his chair, making no move at all to assist me.

"Why don't you go back to not speaking," I said irritably. He let out a low chuckle that set my teeth on edge. "Grrrrrrr!" I growled when the beetle escaped my grasp again.

"imobulus," Finnian lazily enchanted and the beetle was frozen in space.

"Thank you," I said under my breath as I began to remove the wings with some tweezers and place it in our cauldron.

"It was just pathetic watching you struggle," he said amused.

"So be it." I began to stir the concoction with a slight flick of my wrist, the way my mum taught me was best for thicker potions.

"So you're really good at all this potions stuff huh?" He said without sarcasm, much to my surprise.

"I guess."

"I'm not," he said honestly. "Barely passed last term."

"Great," I said. I smelled the potion and yawned, signifying it was done.

"Look Weasley," he said, "I'm trying here." I took a deep breath.

"My mum is like really into potions and taught me a bunch of stuff when I was growing up. I'm not some nerd or something." He smirked at me, looking up at me with his big stupid grey eyes. Who had grey eyes anyway, I thought frustrated.

"So, is it finished?"

"Should be – "

"Professor," Finnian began, "we're done!"

"We?" I said with gritted teeth.

"Thought you weren't a fink Weasley."

"I'm not," I said haughtily.

"Alright then," he said with a satisfied grin. He really was too obnoxious for his own good.

Slughorn came over and inspected our potion; he stirred it around with the spoon then lowered himself to the potion to take in a whiff. He let out a big, uncontrolled yawn that brought an accomplished smile to my face.

"Very well done, you two. This is the best potion I've seen yet – it has a wonderful consistency. How did you manage that?" he asked us. I opened my mouth to answer but Slughorn stopped me. "I would like Mr. Parkinson to answer. It shouldn't be a problem since you assisted in the production of this potion. Correct?" Finnian was one of those guys who had a cool demeanor at all times, tactfully controlling his emotions and facial expression but in this instance I saw a brief second of panic. It was such a human reaction that I actually felt sorry for the guy.

"Well we – uhhmm – funny thing, her mum actually taught her this trick –"quickly, while he vamped, I discreetly grabbed his arm underneath the table and taught him the stirring motion. "It would be easier if I just showed you." He continued, now better sure of himself, and did the stirring motion I'd just showed him. Slughorn smiled approvingly, thank Merlin.

"See," Slughorn said, "these partners were a splendid idea. One day with Ms. Weasley and you've already learned more than I was able to teach you all last term. Splendid work, you two!" He left us at our station to go check another student's work.

"Thank you for the save," Finnian said when Slughourn was out of earshot. He took a deep breath. "I might have misjudged you a little bit based on your last name – "

"oh, you mean the same thing you got mad at James for doing not an hour ago."

"Look, kid I'm trying to apologize here."

"I'm not a kid – you're one year older than me," I grumbled, "but sorry, continue." He grinned, reaching out his palm.

"Truce?" I took his hand.

"Truce."

"So, you given any thought to why you were sucked up into the floor?" Finnian asked as if he already knew the answer. Must he say everything with an air of superiority, I pondered. He was referring to my first night in Hogwarts when he had to save me from a first year swallowing hole.

"My brother thinks it must have been Peeves playing a joke on me."

"Well your brother's stupid."

"Finnian!" I barked, to remind him of our truce.

"Sorry. It's just that you were right next to Slytherin's common room – where the Bloody Baron lives. Peeves wouldn't go near him, much less play a prank there." He collected his books and put them in his bag.

"Well then, what do you think did it?"

"Dunno." He said with a grin, swinging his bag over his arm and making his way to the door.

"Finnian wait –"

"Call me Fin," he said in an emotionless monotone that I couldn't, for a second, read. Then he walked out the classroom without another word. He didn't help me at all. Did he know what happened to me or didn't he? And why was he leaving mid conversation like that? Merlin, he was infuriating.


	3. Bowtruckes and Skeleton Heads

**Author's note: **Hello again! I just thought I'd respond to a fun question I got about our young Mr. Fin. The posed question was why his name is "Finnian (last name) Parkinson as apposed the last name of Pansy's husband at the time, his father. To that, I respond with a counter question: who ever said she was married to his father? In fact, I'd bet Fin is just as anxious to find out who his dad is as I hope you are ;) *author crosses fingers* Enjoy the chapter! If you like it please **review** or follow or give me some indication that this story is worth continuing. Love you much, PTP

_Second half of first year: Roxanne is newly twelve years old_

Hogwarts life was better than I could have ever expected; I'd been there over half a year and I already had the two best friends a girl could ask for - Christie and Ivar. They didn't get along with each other to well in the beginning but being forced to spend time together when they hung out with me meant they eventually developed endearing respect for each other. Respect that, I am relieved to say, is now full on friendship. I don't want to take the credit but… you know, it goes where it's due. I also had my crazy cool older brother, Fred and my cousin James who had taken to showing us all the pranks you could pull on peeves and Filch. Last month involved an office full of toads, not that we got caught, of course, dad had taught us well. Sometimes, when Fred and I are being brave, we'll owl dad and say something like "Someone filled Filches office up with toads and he had warts for a week." Then dad will say something proud an affectionate not connecting it in any way to the toads, but Fred and I know he knows and it's the best.

As far as classes go, I'm dreadful at transfiguration and History of Magic. I don't feel too bad about that last one though, because the only one I know who can stay up in that class is Molly. Charms and Defense against the dark arts are so cool, I can actually do some spells now, not many but some! Then there's flying and potions, my two best classes, Slughorn is so impressed with my work he keeps asking me and some of his other favorite students to have tea with him. Oh yeah, and Finnian (my mysterious potions partner), we are…civil. We definitely don't fight anymore and he still seems to operate under the illusion that he's like seven years older than me, even though it's just ONE. But we have a sort of system, I do all the work and he cuts up mint leaves and maybe even speaks a word or two every forty five minutes – it's progress.

"CHECKMATE!" I yelled after successfully beating James in a game of Wizards Chess.

"Unfair," he grumbled.

"Sorry, Cus, that's how the game is played… so hand it over." I said confidently, waiting for James to hand me the Marauder's map. I hadn't won it for keeps or anything, but I planned to make good with the one night I had.

"Christie," I whined, bouncing on her four poster while she tried to paint her nails a sparkling gold.

"Hey, you're going to mess me up," she complained.

"Come one, forget about how you feel about the map and come have some actually fun!" She shook her blonde, decided head at me.

"Nope. I refuse to take part in the use of any object that lets people know more than they ought to. Like hello, I can see the future; I know way more about people at this school than I ever wanted. I don't need a map to tell me that our professors are permanent residents of icksville. All this seer stuff has got me totally bugged about it."

"I know but –"

"I'm not budging on this one, Sorry."

"Ugh, being a seer is totally wasted on you." I said it as a joke but immediately regretted it. I knew she'd been having a tough time with it.

"Harsh, Rox. You try knowing totally terrible stuff is going to happen all the time and not be able to tell your friends or family about it." Since Christie had started her private lessons with Firenze, she couldn't tell anybody, not even Ivar and I, about her visions. He says that 'occlumency is not a preventative measure but a warning and that the seer's job is to prepare the subjects of their prophecies for the inevitable not give them hope of another outcome.' In other words, she's got to hold in a bunch of really sad crap and it makes her anxious. It's a good thing Christie's a walking pot of sunshine because I don't think any other eleven year old could handle it, if I'm honest. Now, if I'm being really honest, I'd say that it freaking sucks because I can always tell when she knows something's going to happen to me because she looks at me with these sad puppy eyes. She'd been giving them to me all day. I swear, knowing but not knowing is the worst.

"Sorry Christie."

"No worries, love. Hey, I'm sure you could get Ivar to go. He loves that sort of thing."

"I would, but he's having his "Boys Night" remember. We were given instructions not to disturb him." Christie giggled and nodded her head in remembrance.

"Oh yeah, we might of taken it too far with the hair last week." I laughed mischievously to myself. Christie was referring to the time when Ivar fell asleep doing homework in the common room and Christie and I took it upon ourselves to tie his affro into two, pink bowed pigtail puffs. He probably would have thought it a laugh if the Gryffindor quidditch team hadn't come in from late practice and had a not so nice laugh of their own.

"He still loves us," I said, shrugging my shoulders and hopping off Christie's four poster. She batted her long eyelashes at me.

"How could he not!"

After my unsuccessful attempt to get Christie involved in my Muarder's map adventure, I decided to go another one of my solo excursions.

"I knew it!" I said to myself, looking at the map. In the stair well that lead up to the owlry was my brother and Ivar's sister Jessa – alone. They are so busted. How could he not tell me? I was his cooler than average little sister, little sister. He was supposed to tell me everything. I was pondering all the ways I was going to get him back for this when I saw Finnian Parkinson's dot. Why was he pacing around the kitchens at midnight? He just didn't strike me as a late night snacker, you know. I had to investigate. In hindsight, I realize that nosiness is considered rude in most civilized communities but I just don't care.

As I edged closer to the opening of the kitchens I looked at the map again, just to make sure he was still there. Oh, he was there alright and heading straight for me. I ducked behind a long tapestry of a fat woman eating too much fruit and hoped to Merlin he hadn't seen me. I slowly, so as to not be heard, took out the map and chanced a look. Thank goodness he'd paused outside the Kitchens. No movement towards me whatsoever. There was something else though, I squinted my eyes to see to if it was just the dimness of the light or sleepiness catching up to me. But no – there was definitely little black skeleton heads appearing and reappearing on the map near Fin. Who were these creatures and why were they making the map go all wonky. Oh and most importantly, why were they hovering around my potions partner? Of course, I had to check it out.

I peered my little curious head around the tapestry and in front of me, so close he could probably hear me breathe if I made the wrong move, was Fin - by himself. I peeked at the map again, still fuzzy little skeletons head present. The map showed ghosts, and I (as a witch) could see ghosts, so what were these creepy invisible things with no names? Finnian didn't seem to notice they were there or, at least, he wasn't acting like the kind of person that was hanging out with creepy invisible nameless skeleton heads.

In fact, the longer I looked, the more I realized he was somehow more somber than usual. His emotionless bravado gone, to be replaced by a downward look of… loneliness? No. It couldn't be. Fin enjoyed his annoying loner, bad boy, Slytherin esthetic, didn't he? I watched him poor a copper liquid which I recognized as fire whisky, into a tall shot glass. He casually put his wand to the top of the liquid and said:

"Incendio," the whisky was engulfed in an orange flame. He lifted the glass in the air. "Happy birthday to me!" He said morbidly putting the glass to his mouth and taking it down with a grunt and a wince. Merlin, I thought to myself, was this guy turning thirteen or forty five? He pulled out a rolled piece of parchment from his robes pocket and read silently. Oh what I would have given to see what was making him so angry in that moment. He crumpled the paper and stormed off in the direction of the Slytherin common room.

When he seemed a safe enough distance away, I practically ran to the paper he'd discarded, anxious to peer into the secret world that was Finnian Parkinson. The top of the parchment had a professional looking Z sealed on the front.

_Finnian, _

_How dare you not show up tonight? You embarrassed me in front of the entire legion. They all came to see your induction and where were you? What was so important that you've managed to fuck up this badly? "R" is not as forgiving as I am. We talked about this; on your thirteenth birthday you stop having the option, I sealed your fate long ago. You will help us eventually whether you like it or not. Sometimes, I wonder if you're my son –_

I gasped as my hand grasping the letter seared with a pain like acid on my fingers. I dropped the parchment, clutching my charred fingers in an attempt to ease the burn. The letter convulsed on the ground, shriveling into itself until there was nothing left. With my heart beating a thousand beats a minute and a shaking, unburnt, hand I grabbed the map to see if Fin had caught me.

Fin was in his room. I was surrounded. Plain as day, the name Roxanne Weasley was surrounded by hundreds of black skeleton heads. An icy chill ran through me, I could feel them. I could hear the creaking wheeze of death at my ear. They were nowhere in sight, whatever they were. I wanted to cry, to scream but I was too afraid to do anything but plant myself silently in that spot.

"Roxy," A desperate whisper came from my right side. I jumped, stepping back; I was immediately infused with a lifeless chill. I shivered uncontrollably, my teeth chattering and lips cracking. "Roxanne, you have to get out of there. They can't touch you but you'll freeze if you don't move." I finally saw the worried face of Christie at the end of the hall. She was waving me near her. I gathered up all my Gryffindor strength and ran in her direction, feeling pang after pang of the invisible creatures. "Come on, this way." She grabbed my arm and pulled me in the direction of Gryffindor tower.

When we stepped inside the portrait hole, Christie shivered and stuck out her tongue like she'd tasted something disgusting.

"Don't you just hate death in the morning? Disgusting!"

"Christe, ww-what just happened? What were those things?" I gawked at her cavalier manner.

"I don't know," she said casually. She yawned. "I'm sleepy."

"CHRISTIE!" I yelled. She flinched, a hint of her tension peeking behind her seemingly indifferent features. "Could you see them?" I asked feebly.

"Not just now." What did that… then I got it, to my horror. I thought she was my friend.

"You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?" I accused. She said nothing which I took to be a confirmation. "You just sat there on your bed painting your nails and you let me go. What kind of person does that?" She looked on the edge of tears which was an odd sight since smiles generally graced her porcelain face.

"Firenze said –"

"Bully Firenze!" I shouted.

"Look, I was there. I got you. You weren't hurt. I knew you wouldn't be hurt!" She started to cry. I tried to pretend I didn't care. "I can't control what I see, I only get teeny tiny pictures. I can't tell whether an event in someone's life is important to who they become or who someone else becomes. So many terrible things could happen if I mess with destiny." I rolled my eyes and pushed passed her to the dormitory. I knew she was right, somewhere deep, deep down in the pits of my twelve year old stubbornness. But I was scared and angry and HOLY CRAP WAS FINNIAN APART OF SOME CULT?

I had forgotten with the whole almost being killed thing. That letter was sketchy right? … And a little depressing. Was that how his mum wished him a happy birthday. Talk about pressure. I went to bed that night, head filled with a thousand and one questions. Who was that "R" thing in the letter and what was Fin supposed to do? Does it have anything to do with skeleton heads? Does Christie know the answers to all of these questions? Was I too hard on Christie?

The next day in Potions, Fin looked as tired as I felt. I took my seat next to him wondering if he could feel the extent of intensity at which I was thinking about him.

"What's with you, Weasley?" that would be a yes.

"huh. Nothing?"

"Well, that was convincing," he drawled. Why must everything he said to me be drenched with unwanted snark?"

"Homework check, class!" Slughorn said. "You know the drill; I call your name, you bring up your vials. Benamin, Creevey, Carmen… "I reached in my bag until I had wrapped my burnt hand around two small potion vials. One had a green bow around it. I smiled inwardly at what I was about to do.

"Happy Birthday," I whispered to Fin, passing him the bowed vial under the table. He looked over at me confused.

"How did you?"

"I'd take the bow off before you turn it in," I said.

"Why do I even try," Slughorn huffed, "Parkinson?" He breathed not expecting much. Fin stood to hand in the potion and Slughhorn looked like he was going to choke on his double chin? "Do my eyes deceive me? What is this, the first time all term?"

"And it will be the last if you keep on griping about it," Fin shot back.

"Watch your mouth, boy," Slughorn warned. "Take your seat."

"If you made that potion, he'll never believe I did it," Fin mused when he sat back down.

"Don't worry," I said, as I got up to turn my own in. "Yours is nowhere near as good as mine." Then I saw it, the expression he couldn't hide. I, Roxanne Weasley, had, despite his attempt to hide it, gotten Fin to smile. A real smile, not a judgmental smirk.

"Where yeah going?" Christie asked on my way out the portrait hole that night. I didn't have a death wish or anything; it was just that I'd been waiting my whole life for an adventure and one plopped in my lap. I couldn't, very well, run scared.

"Don't you already know," I said snidely, slamming the portrait door behind me. "Bloody Hell!" I gasped when I was on the other side of the hole. Fin was standing there, hands in his cloak pockets, like it was normal for him to be hanging out outside the Gryffindor common room.

"Don't be so jumpy Weasley!"

"Ugh, what are you even doing – Oh… Fin, were you waiting for me?" I ask him knowingly.

"No," He scoffed. He's a bad liar for a slytherin. "I just figured if we were both going to be out after hours we might as well be together. It's just practical in't."

"So, you were waiting for me." I smiled. "I caught you Fin; you want to be my frie-eend," I sang.

"Come on, Weasley!" He said grabbing my hurt hand to pull me along.

"sss," I hissed at the sting, pulling my hand away. He furrowed his dark eyebrows and looked down at my hand. He didn't look at me, I swear, for another five minutes as we walked in silence. Did he know? Had I been found out? It was always so hard to tell with him.

"How far d'you get before it scorched you?" He said after a while.

"Huh?"

"The letter?" He said calmly.

"Oh," I looked at my shoes, embarrassed. "Uhm… I'm sorry I –"

"How far?" he asked again, just as calm. Too calm, I had a nervous felling he was taking me to his evil master to kill me or something.

"Disappointed mother, end of paragraph one," I said honestly. He laughed a short laugh.

"You barley grazed it."

"I read slow," I felt the need to defend myself.

"Good."

"I got enough, though." I said bravely because he didn't seem to be that mad and because even though I was found out I was dying to ask him all my questions. "So, what's "R"?" I waited but he didn't say anything. He continued walking forward in our path. Which, let me add, I was following blindly for some strange reason because Finnian Parkinson had given me absolutely no reason to trust him. "What did your mother mean that you would have to help them? Is them "R"? Is or is them the legion?" Again, no answer. "Does all this have to do with the hole that tried to follow me and the creepy skeleton heads?"

"Skeleton heads?" He paused, even stopped walking.

"It speaks," I teased.

"The Skeleton heads?" He repeated, without change. He did that a lot.

"Yeah, the death thingys" He narrowed his eyes on me.

"Wait, you can see them?" He asked.

"Not exactly. You see there's this map – wait a second, I'm not talking if you're not?" I said standing tall and walking again even though I had no idea where we were going.

"Fine," he said.

"Right, now can you see them?" I asked expecting an answer. I, of course, did not receive one. I sighed audibly. "Why didn't you do go to the induction thingy?"

"Catch on, Weasley, I'm not talking. Pick a new subject. You never shut up so I'm sure you'll think of something."

"Why are you always so mean?" I pouted. It was all very uncool.

"Why do you stalk people and read letters that don't belong to you?"

"Point taken." We walked outside the Castle and the cold hit me instantly. It was February, snow was on the ground for Merlin's sake. "W-where are we going?" I shuttered.

"The dark forest," It was the first straight answer he'd given me all night and I didn't like the sound of it.

"Excuse me?"

"Not scared are you?" I huffed, I was Gryffindor. What was he…challenging me? Well challenge accepted Mr. elusive boy.

"Of course not! It's just not allowed."

"Neither is being out of bed after hours." He replied smartly. "Or filling Filtch's office with toads." I looked up at him, surprised. How did he know? "Nice one, by the way," he added. It was a good thing my cheeks were already red from the cold because, boy would I have been blushing like – well like a twelve year old girl.

"Thanks," I said, wrapping my cloak around myself to ward off the cold winter air.

"You coming or not?"

"Yeah," I said, not thinking before I answered. He looked at me like he was impressed or proud or something belittling like that. Ugh, how typical.

"Come on then," he broke into a run. "We'll warm up if we sprint!" He shouted from the distance. I started running to keep up. My lungs promptly felt warn and frozen.

"I'm not much of a sprinter!" I swallowed ice cold saliva. It was gross. "I'm more of a flyer."

"Keep up, Weasley," he called ahead of me. I grumbled and forced my aching legs to move faster.

"You can breathe again," he said laughing. "We're here!"

"Don't make fun of me, it's like zero degrees out here." I breathed heavy, a little embarrassed but in too much pain to care.

"You're warmer though, aren't you?"

"Yeah, with the side effect of my lungs being on fire!"

"Shh!" Did he just shush me? "You'll scare them away," he said in a quiet tone.

"We are in the middle of the dark forest. I'd like to scare a lot of things away!" I nervously whispered as the exhaustion went away and the realization that I was surrounded my huge dark trees, probably home to some of the most fearsome creatures in the wizarding world, set in.

Fin smiled at me and pulled a bag full of a disgusting bugs out of his pocket. I peered at it with a deep frown.

"Ewe!"

"Don't be such a girl," he chastised.

"Don't be such a boy," I countered. "Why do you have a bag full of termites in your pocket?"

"They aren't termites, they're tree lice!" He said, like that wasn't more disgusting. "It's an offering, so they know they can trust us," he said in another whisper. He bent down, low to the ground, I did the same.

"They who?" But before he could answer me, a little squadron of hand sized, bark- skinned, creatures walked cautiously toward us. They were funny little things. They stabbed at the insect bag with long, sharp fingers, skewering and encasing them in their wood-like mouths that I found, oddly cute. I giggled and looked over at Fin. He was smiling too, despite himself. Another real smile. Wow, I thought, twice in one day. He seemed like a completely different person like this, for starter, he actually looked like a kid.

"What are they?" I asked.

"Bowtruckles," he responded. He edged closer, letting one walk on his outstretched hand and on to his shoulder. "Come on, don't let the sharp fingers fool you. They're actually quite gentle."

"It's not them," I said pulling my mess of brown curls up into a bun. "Are the bugs all gone?" I asked. So I wasn't a bug person – call the tomboy police. He smiled again but this time it was the smirk. That expression was beginning to become more annoying than my cousin Molly.

"its tree lice not hair lice. But they're gone." I took a deep breath and came to sit by him in bowtruckle heaven. I was quickly leapt on by many a truckle, who had taken to hiding in my pockets and seeing if I could find them.

"They're so friendly!" I gushed.

"We fed them so…owe – careful!" he said to one that poked him in the head with a sword finger.

"Yeah, about that. Did it have to be tree lice?" He grinned.

"No, they also like fairy eggs," he said smartly. My eyes got big with distress.

"Oh no – sad!"

"Exactly!" I nodded my head.

"Tree lice it is then." I giggled again when a bowtruckle tickled my side. Fin stared at me with a weird expression I couldn't read. Boys, am I right?

"So," he said. "You have a boyfriend?" I looked at him like he was crazy.

"UH No. I'm barely twelve!" I answered, because duh. He rolled his eyes at me then perked up.

"Twelve? When was your birthday?"

"It was a couple months ago, during winter holiday."

"Well, happy birthday." He said awkwardly.

"You too," I replied. We were quiet for a few seconds. "Do you have a girlfriend?" I asked after a while. He sighed haughtily.

"I have a couple," he replied. I believed him too. When he wasn't off skulking to himself, he was always talking to some slytherin girl. Actually, he was being talked at by slytherin girls. The conversations, as are most with Fin, looked pretty one sided. Not that I had given a lot of thought to these encounters. I just had taken to gathering up information about him wherever I could because until tonight he hadn't told me a single thing about himself. Tonight though, he had let me into his secret world. I smiled at the thought.

"What?" he asked at my blatant staring.

"Nothing. I just didn't know you liked animals so much."

"Well I do," he said defensively.

"I didn't mean it as an insult."

"Oh yeah, well this is what I do when you're in the castle at night about to get yourself killed."

"How do you know I'm not sleeping?" I flipped. He flashed me the most knowing grey eyes I'd ever seen. Then looked down at my burnt hand. I smiled weakly.

"Oh…right!"

Fin and I stayed up, playing with bowtruckles and talking until I began to see the sun rise through my almost closed lids. When I got back to my room I slept almost my whole Saturday away. But when I finally did get my lazy bum out of my four poster, I made an express trip to the common room to find Christie. I was getting bored of the whole being mad at her thing. Also because I really wanted to tell her and Ivar about the bowtruckles and about how I had managed to become friends with the slytherin recluse.


	4. Last Impressions

_Roxanne is 12, the last day of first year _

Here's the thing about curly hair, you have like a ten minute window to style it the way you want before air hits it and it's stuck like that for the rest of the day. Given that I couldn't give a hippogriff's feathery behind what my hair looked like until a few months ago, today's need for mane maintenance was not going well. You see, it was the morning I got on the train to go home after my first full year at Hogwarts. This was the last time everyone was going to see me for probably the whole summer and I didn't want to leave them with a bad taste of messy bun in their mouth.

"Come on Roxanne, you know you're taking too long when I beat you out of the bathroom!" Christie, of all people, complained. This was coming from the girl that was almost late to one of her examinations because her pigtails were uneven.

"We all weren't born with your silky straight rays of sunshine Chris, you're gonna have to a lot me a little more time!" She looked at me in the mirror with an overly satisfied expression.

"All this primping wouldn't have to do with a certain, brooding Slytherin you spend almost every night with, does it?" I lasered her through the mirror with eyes that could burn through the wall – thank you Mum for that inherited expression.

"Fin and I are just friends, besides, I probably won't even see him today – "

"But in case you do, you want to look amazing," she winked. "I get it!"

"Christie I'm twelve, I am much too young to be thinking about Fin as my boyfriend!" she gave me another knowing smile.

"Who said anything about boyfriends? I just think you like him, which by the red in your cheeks, you obviously do!"

"Keep quiet about it, will you! I'm not even sure I understand it yet, it's all so bloody complicated. I just like hanging out with him – OK?" She did a little locking motion over her mouth with her perfectly manicured fingers.

"There's no shame in having a crush Rox," Christie recited wisely.

"Does that mean you're ready to admit you fancy…Ivar." I almost choked on the last word, it was too hard to say with a straight face. Ivar and Christie could barely be friends without blasting each other's heads off, forget more than that.

"Ugh puke!" Christie responded with a gagging motion. "Why would you say that before I'm about to eat." I laughed. "No, I've set my sights much higher than the likes of," she stuck out her tongue in a barfing motion, "Ivar Jordan."

"And who may that be," I said, rolling my eyes but secretly super curious.

"James Sirius Potter," She gushed, to my disgust.

"As in my cousin?" I halted all movement, hair be damned this was a full on tragedy. First off, James was my cousin so…eww! Second of all, James was an impossible flirt, always playing up the 'my dad's the chosen one' bit, witches never even got within dating distance of him before he was on to the next one. I mean he was practically the _Fin _of Gryffindor! I loved him, but he was the worst.

"The one and only," She hummed dreamily.

"You do know he treats girls like rubbish?" I persisted.

"Yeah, I know. But he's awfully nice to me."

"That's because he doesn't know you like him yet." But she hummed on despite my protests, letting me know to save my breath.

"Anyway," Christie said after the subject was dropped, "Don't you think we should get to actually meet Finnian. Like, Ivar and I are your best friends and we know nothing about your secret life with him." I crossed paths with her out of the bathroom and into our dormitory to change, without a response. I didn't know how to tell her that he was mean and moody and would probably laugh directly in my face at the suggestion.

"I don't know Chris – "

"You're not ashamed of us are you?"

"No, that's not – "

"Good! Ask him to sit with us on the train home." She promptly ran out the room before I could stop her. How typical Christie, and she'd have my wand if I didn't comply. I grumpily put on my favorite pair of jeans and my mum's vintage Weird Sisters graphic tee (that I was absolutely obsessed with) and reviewed myself in the mirror. Pretty good, for a twelve year old girl about to enter into her awkward years, I assessed. So I wanted Fin's summer image of me to be the cool girl he hung out with in the dark forest not the frizzy haired swot he sat next to in potions. Was that really so bad? Not if I ignored the fact that he could be in cahoots with some skeleton heady evil. I breathed a deep, exasperated sigh – why did my first crush have to be totally bad news?

When I finally made way down to the great hall, I did my best to, as discreetly as possible, turn my gaze to the Slytherin table to see if Fin was there. He wasn't sitting in his usual spot in the back corner…not that I looked over at him much.

"Who are we looking for at the Slytherin table?" Said an unmistakable voice that made me blush to my toes with embarrassment.

"Merlin, Fin what are you doing here?" I said nervously turning around to look at him. He was wearing a blue tee shirt, grey, baggy cargo pants and a look that told me I was busted.

"Apparently helping you stalk me, Weasley. Thought it'd be easiest if I was already talking to you."

" ," mocked with the most flippant tone I could muster in my current predicament. "I wasn't stalking you, Parkinson! I swear your ego is a big as you are rubbish at potions." He laughed his real laugh, the one that made me want to run from his presence and scribble Mrs. Finnian Parkinson all over my parchment.

"I passed actually," he said, eyes alight with pride. I looked at him suspiciously.

"Not possible. I thought you told me Sloughorn said the only way you'd pass was if you aced the exam." Fin nodded his straight black head of hair. Swoon.

"And I did, you have so little faith in me."

"Umm – I talked to you the night before that final and you thought a bisour was the old English word for mistress."

"Bisour… Paramour – the two are easily confused," He said dismissively.

"Fin," I practically whined. "Come on, tell me, how'd you pass?"

"Easy. You did all the work for the practical and I copied your paper for the written." I couldn't even be mad at him, I was too focused on not giggling myself to death.

Crushes are the absolute worst. They're all well and good until you finally admit it to yourself. That's when everything becomes a confusing mess of 'why is he suddenly talking in code,' and 'is it possible to blush to death'. I could kill Christie for opening my eyes to my stupid going-to-ruin-everything feelings I unfortunately had for the unabashed paper-copier in front of me. Now, I couldn't have a simple conversation without feeling like I simultaneously wanted to run away and glue our feet together. Oh, brother –

"Whatcha staring at, Weasley?" Your beautiful grey irises!

"Huh? What. I wasn't – "loud swallow. Deep breath. Then start again. "Did you maybe want to, you probably won't want to…you don't have to – I mean you don't have to do anything you don't want to do?" Smooth.

"Was there a question in there?" Smirk, he was smirking. At a time like this. He really was the foulest first crush in the history of preteens. Alright, I instructed myself, let's try this again.

"I was wondering if –"then I felt it, the cold, lifeless presence of the weird skeleton heads. I'd been feeling them a lot since my unfortunate encounter in February, but this was the first time I'd felt them in the presence of so many people. Not to mention the terrifying fact that I could tell their numbers had increased since the time with the – Oh no!

I ran off, out of the great hall, towards the energy of my, not-so-friendly skeleton heads.

"Roxanne, wait!" Fin said, catching up to me.

"Someone's in trouble," I told him desperately, turning the corner and almost running into an armored night. Fin, thankfully, caught my hand in time.

"You can still feel them, can't you," he questioned, looking perturbed. He had a firm hold on my wrist preventing me moving.

"Yes."

"Dammit Weasley, why didn't you say anything?" Finnian Parkinson was at that moment displaying more emotion than I had ever seen. His eyebrows pulled so tightly together, a bed of wrinkles marred his thirteen year old forehead. Was he mad or worried, I couldn't yet tell?

"I told you, if you weren't talking I wasn't – remember!" He let go of my wrist and combed his hair back with his hand.

"Grrrr. This isn't a joke, OK. You could get hurt." Mad. He was most defiantly mad. And treating me like stupid kid, as always.

"I know it's not a joke," I spat in the high register my voice took when I was upset. "The last time I felt their energy this strong, a house elf was so cold he almost…" I could feel the warmth in my cheeks, the unmistakable crack in my voice. Don't you dare cry, Roxanne. "We have to hurry," was all I managed before running away again, hoping to Merlin he was following me.

"Salazar's bleeding – "He said when he turned the corner and saw what I saw. Shivering in, what could only be described as a cloud of deep despair, was hufflepuff first year, Alice Longbottom. Her lips were blue and frozen shut, though she looked like she was trying to speak, cry out maybe. Her eyes were shut tight against her attackers.

"Isn't that professor Longbottom's –"Fin began? I slowly nodded my head, recognizing her round, pasty face from countless DA reunions and family parties.

"Fin, we have to do something."

"No shit."

"This is so not the time for your attitude." He took a deep breath and gave me an apologetic expression, though he couldn't actually say the words.

"We should go get a teacher," he reasoned.

"Look at her, we don't have time for that," I protested. I gathered up every ounce of my family's' brave blood and used it to propel my foot forward into the cold depths of skeleton heads.

"You can't just go in there. They'll remember you interfered."

"I have to. Fin, I've known her practically my whole life," I continued forward. It was ten thousand times worse than the last time I'd gone through the death creatures. The air felt thick like tar as I tried, unsuccessfully to move quickly towards Alice.

"Why are you moving so slowly? Run!" Fin shouted to me.

"They won't let me," I answered back with a shaky voice.

"Homenum Revelio," I heard him enchant behind me. I saw them. Blue, gaunt human forms holding on to me at all sides. Thin, almost skeletal hands tried to prevent me access to Alice. A scream threatened to rip from my throat but another hand enchased my open mouth, swallowing my cries. I flailed about, eyes wide with the most fear I'd ever experienced. My innermost nightmares began to feel like reality in my head. _You'll amount to nothing. You don't have half the talent or the bravery of the rest of your family. A pathetic imitation of a witch, much less, a Weasley. _Frozen tears stung my eyes, making Alice a blur in my vision. I stopped moving, the crippling thoughts in my head overpowering my will to move. _Perhaps it would be best to just – give up. _

"Roxanne!" I heard a distant yell, the fuzziness in my head dissipated only to be replaced with a warm tingling in my chest. 'That voice is nice,' I thought to myself. It took his hands on my shoulders to shake me out of my daze.

This time, my scream echoed throughout the halls. I saw Fin sigh with relief before dragging me towards Alice. The creatures surrounded her like they'd surrounded me, keeping her immovable in her fetal position. They didn't seem to touch Fin though. Even after we hoisted her over our shoulders and pulled her free of their chilling grasps, they avoided him as if he was some kind of human shield against them.

It wasn't until Fin, a passed out Alice and I made it back to the knight in shining armor that we realized the death creatures weren't following us.

"It's alright," Fin assured, "they're gone. They don't have enough energy to follow us anymore." I looked at him with questioning eyes, still unable to form words. "Later. Right now we have to get her to the hospital wing." I nodded my head feebly and kept moving.

When we'd finally arrived, my arms and legs were warn and ragged from dragging Alice half way across the castle. But the pain in my aching limbs didn't compare to the residue of despair that lingered within me. I didn't really know what happened to me back there, but whatever it was searched my soul and brought to surface the thoughts I kept hidden even from myself.

"Great Gillyweed!" Madam Pomfrey gasped at the look of Alice. "What's happened to her?"

"Don't know. We found her like this," Fin answered before I had chance to consider telling the truth. Madame Pomfrey looked to me to confirm. I shook my head in alliance with Fin.

"Poor dear," Pomfrey stated, helping us carry her to a bed. "Where'd you find her?"

"Near her common room, a bit away from the kitchens. I expect she was headed to the Great Hall for some breakfast." It wasn't until I heard Fin say it that I realized she was attached in the same place I found Fin and the letter. The same place I saw the house elf before it got hold of itself and ran shrieking away.

"You carried her all this way?" She asked, sounding impressed. We nodded. "Well, you'll start next term with ten points earned for both your houses. Are you quite alright, yourself, Miss Weasley? You look like you could use a lie down."

"Just a bit of a shock," Fin answered for me again. Maybe he was a better liar than I thought. "Just needs a spot of breakfast and some pumpkin juice." Madam Pomfrey looked at me suspiciously. I did my best to give her a reassuring smile.

"Well, alright then. You'd better hurry, the carriages will be leaving soon."

* * *

><p>"What the BLOODY HELL are those things?" I asked Fin once we were out of earshot of the hospital wing.<p>

"I don't know, keep your voice down." he hissed.

"You're lying! What was all that rubbish about 'they'll remember you' and 'they don't have enough energy to' blah blah blah. You know a lot more than you're letting on and you need to tell someone. Those things are dangerous!" I scolded him, not bothering to lower my voice.

"Don't be so dramatic, Weasley." He was so cold, now. Back to his usual indifference but I knew better, I had seen the look of terror in his eyes when he saw Alice's body for the first time or when he was trying to wake me from my trance.

"Save it, Fin, you know I'm right. I don't know why you're pretending that you don't but I went from confident to suicidal within minutes back there and – "

"I can't tell you anything." He said genuinely. "I wish I could but I can't."

"That's not good enough," I pressed on. I was done with his secrets.

"They feed on fear, the more people know about them, the stronger they become. And once they know you know, they target you." I listened to him, hanging on to every word. "That's why you feel them so strongly, they've targeted you. I've been trying to avoid what happened this morning since you found out about them. It's why I always insist we go out of the castle at night." My head spun, he'd been protecting me all this time? And here I was thinking he just wanted to be my friend. Leave it me to be a little upset about a thing like that.

"How do you know so much? Why don't they touch you?"

"Do you trust me, Weasley?" He asked, a curious expression on his face.

"Of course," I said without thinking, because I shouldn't. For all I knew he was some psycho. But, never the less, even after deeper reflection, my words still rung true – I trusted him.

"That's probably not wise," he stated honestly, without humor. I gulped. "But since you do, you're going to have to believe me when I say that I'm saving your skin not my own by not telling you." I looked at him, accepting defeat (for now).

"You want to sit with me and my friends on the bus home?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Can't," he answered smoothly as if everything was back to normal. "Promised Pimberly Knott I'd sit with her. Besides, I can't be seen hanging out with a bunch of Gryffindor first years can I?" He teased but it still made me deflate. Who was I kidding, he was just being a good guy, trying to save my life. He didn't consider me an actual friend, just a kid he could copy off of in potions.

"See you next term," I said somberly, making my way to the carriages. I didn't turn around to see if he was following me, or even if he looked guilty. I figured if he wanted to redeem his himself, he would have called out to me or something. But he didn't, so I continued walking.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Hey guys! So sorry about the late update, I am back at school and that means that for the time being, you are going to have to bear with me a little bit! I love those of you who are reading and look forward to hearing what you think about the next chapter – so REVIEW pretty please! Next chapter will hopefully be up in the coming week <strong>** Love yeah! PTP**


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